


It Takes Five

by selene (moontrimmer)



Category: The Half of It (2020)
Genre: F/F, I just had a need to make some tweaks., I'm sorry if this goes to the top of the update list again.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 06:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23966887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moontrimmer/pseuds/selene
Summary: It takes five strokes to make a great painting. Ellie and Aster's first kiss is only the first of them.
Relationships: Ellie Chu & Paul Munsky, Ellie Chu/Aster Flores
Comments: 66
Kudos: 1410





	It Takes Five

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [【翻译】需要五笔](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24035440) by [R_H_Felidae_Athena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_H_Felidae_Athena/pseuds/R_H_Felidae_Athena)



> I only read this over once, so watch out for typos and such.
> 
> UPDATE: I re-read this and the worst of it wasn't even the typos, some parts felt lacking. I don't normally make edits to published works, but I had to make an exception this time. If you are re-reading this, the changes are mostly in parts 4 and 5.

#### 1

It all started with one letter and one earnest boy.

It was Aster’s first time being kissed by a girl.

It was Ellie’s first time kissing anyone, ever.

#### 2

It’s two years later, and Aster finds herself in front of the Chus’ house.

She talks to Mr. Chu, who tells her that Ellie isn’t home yet but doesn’t elaborate further. So Aster goes over to the Munskys’ house, where she asks Paul about his friend.

“Yeah, she’s still in Iowa,” he says. “Not for school, because school’s over-- for the summer, I mean. She’s doing a project. She explained it to me but I understood like half of it.” He must have seen the disappointment in Aster’s face because he adds, “ _You_ might get it.”

“You two still talk a lot?” Aster asks.

“Yeah,” Paul replies simply.

She scrambles for something else to say, but Paul is ahead of her.

“So, uh, how’s art school?” he asks.

“It’s going really well,” she replies, brightening up. “I’m learning so many things.” She has so much more to add, about everything that she’s learned of art and of herself, but she wants to say them to Ellie. Instead, she asks, “How about you? What have you been up to?”

Eyes bright, Paul starts talking about food and sauces, the restaurant business, and even about supply and demand. Aster can’t help but match his wide grin; she’s never heard him so confident and knowledgeable about a topic before.

“Hey, you’ve never tried taco sausage before, have you?” Paul asks.

Aster shakes her head in response.

“Oh, you are in for a treat.”

They spend the rest of the day together, laughing about nothing and everything. Paul even makes sure to apologise about deceiving her. He never says anything about Ellie’s part in it, but Aster knows the other girl was the one who made it go on for so long. She has forgiven her long ago; of course she forgives Paul too. She tells him just as much, and he smiles a wide, sweet smile that makes her wish all the best for him.

When they separate at the end of the day, she tells him to tell Ellie where she can find her.

#### 3

It’s three weeks after the start of summer vacation when Ellie finally gets home.

That evening, she and her dad sit in front of the TV eating dumplings and watching a recent sports movie. The dumplings were made by her dad and Paul; the movie was Paul’s choice, which her dad allowed. Paul’s there of course, sitting on the chair that used to be hers. Ellie is relegated to a smaller chair between them and a little to the back, and they both shush her when she tries to critique the movie. She doesn’t mind. Paul’s been keeping her dad company when she was away; her dad’s English has improved because Paul doesn’t speak a word of Mandarin.

The day after her arrival, she goes to the Turning Point; Paul has told her that Aster is working there for the summer. She stares up at the building’s facade from across the street, and would probably have stood there for hours had Aster not appeared at the doorway in her red waitress’s uniform.

Ellie crosses the street. “Hi,” she greets, breathless as she looks up at the other girl. She forgot how pretty Aster was, how colourful she made things around her.

“You’re late,” Aster says, arms crossed and frowning.

Of all the things Ellie thought Aster would say, that was not what she expected. Caught off guard, she stammers out, “I-- I’m sorry?”

Aster just raises an eyebrow at her.

She elaborates, “I joined an editorial writing contest held by the city paper. They gave me a guest editor position for a month, so I had to stay there a bit longer.”

“So you won?” Aster asks, quick as ever.

“Yes,” Ellie says honestly.

Aster grins widely, dropping her arms to her side, then she turns on her heel and goes inside the restaurant. Ellie is still debating what to do when Aster comes out again, this time with a denim jacket over her uniform. She’s wearing the same thing she did two years ago, but the way she’s carrying herself made all the difference. It’s like she knows something she didn’t back then.

“Will you come with me?” Aster says, motioning towards her car.

Ellie can’t imagine wanting anything more.

It doesn’t take long for Ellie to realise where Aster is planning to take her.

They’re both silent on the way to Aster’s spring, stealing glances at each other and smiling shyly when caught. The soft music from the radio is the only sound in the car but, once or twice, their giggles fill the small space.

Unlike the last time, Aster doesn’t get into the water when they arrive at the spring. Instead, she settles on one of the rocks, arms hugging her knees. Ellie joins her, taking care not to slip as she sits cross-legged a few feet away. Aster takes a familiar analog radio out of her bag, turning it on. The music seems to harmonise with the bubbling water.

They get to talking: about the things they’re learning at their respective schools, about writing and art, about books and music, about Paul and Trig and their other classmates, and finally about girls.

“So,” Aster starts, so casually it sounds forced, “met anyone interesting in that school of yours? Are you seeing anyone?”

Ellie gazes at her, but Aster is staring studiously at the water in front of them. Ellie spent the first several months of college pining over the girl beside her, but it would be a lie to say that no one else has caught her eye.

“There was this girl in my Philosophy class,” Ellie admits. A bright and friendly girl who seems to eat classics and philosophy for breakfast. “But she’s very decidedly straight,” she adds wryly. She doesn’t say that she spent a weekend brooding in her dorm room when she realised that fact.

“Oh, oh no,” Aster says, turning to look at her. “I’m sorry,” she adds, but she’s grinning widely.

“You don’t look sorry at all,” Ellie says, though she can’t help but grin as well.

“No, I am!” Aster insists. “I really am. Just… ignore my face.”

Ellie shakes her head, chuckling slightly. She could never ignore Aster, least of all her face.

“Well, it’s her loss,” Aster says softly.

It’s Ellie’s turn to stare at the rippling water. “I don’t know,” she denies. And, because she somehow can’t stop herself from being honest with Aster, she adds, “I don’t know how to talk to girls… in that way.”

There were other girls who caught her interest, but she didn't know how to just… go up to them and ask them out. And yes, she was bold with Aster two years ago, but she had nothing to lose back then. Now she couldn’t find it in her to bring up that kiss, those parting words.

Aster huffs. “You _do_ know, you know.” Without preamble, she adds, “I’m bisexual.”

Ellie whips her head towards Aster so quickly she almost gets a crick in the neck. She gapes at her, at a loss for words.

Aster shifts so she’s no longer hugging her knees. Instead, she rests her legs sideways, facing Ellie slightly, one arm supporting her weight. Her lips turn up into a coy smile. “I met this girl in one of my classes. We… dated, if you could call it that, very briefly, but it made me realise-- actually, no,” she shakes her head, correcting herself, “that’s not even the half it. It didn’t exactly tell me something I didn’t already know, but it made me start to realise that it’s okay to be who I am.”

Ellie has never heard the other girl so ineloquent before. She takes a moment to understand what Aster is trying to say before replying. “That’s good. I’m glad… I’m glad you’ve found yourself.”

“It’s a work in progress.”

“Aren’t we all?”

They share a long, meaningful look. Aster seems to be asking a question with her eyes.

Ellie finally finds her courage. “It’s been a couple of years.”

Not breaking eye contact, Aster replies softly, “Yes, it has.”

Ellie doesn’t know how it happened, but the distance between her and Aster has decreased. Her gaze drops to Aster’s lips, flicking back up only to see Aster gazing at _her_ lips. Aster raises her eyes again, and they’re so close that Ellie can see flecks of gold in a sea of brown. Ellie wants to drown.

Their lips meet and suddenly Ellie is eighteen again, kissing the girl she likes in the middle of an empty street. They pull back only to dive back in for a longer, deeper kiss. And then there is nothing else but that moment, in Aster’s spring, the taste of Aster’s lips exploding in her mouth, with Aster’s hands gripping her waist so tightly. It’s just as well; Ellie feels like she’s about to float heavenwards.

What follows is several weeks of bliss.

She and Aster see each other almost every day. They talk about nothing and everything, steal kisses when people aren’t looking, steal glances when people are.

Mostly, ‘people’ just means Paul.

Once, they get into an argument about language, with Paul looking back and forth between them like he’s watching a tennis match -- or a very energetic game of ping pong.

“No, Mandarin’s a better choice, it has the most number of speakers, native _and_ non-native,” Ellie points out, grinning smugly. “More people will understand you, and vice versa.”

“Yes, and I recognise that,” Aster replies, “but Spanish is spoken in more countries. You have Latin America, even including Brazil, where many people learn it as a second language. You have Spain, of course, as well as most of Europe, where, again, people learn it as a second language. It’s also the second most spoken language here. More _individual_ people might understand you with Mandarin, but in fewer places. If you’re travelling the world, you’ll have a higher chance of being understood if you speak Spanish.”

Ellie has nothing to say to that; she’s just enjoying the way Aster’s eyes gleam when she’s trying to make a point.

Paul chooses that moment to speak up. “What about Engl--”

Ellie and Aster both shout, “No!”

Paul stands up, huffing. “I’m gonna go make something to eat. _Food_ is the universal language!”

Ellie and Aster stare at his retreating form. When they look back at each other, they erupt in laughter at his unexpected outburst.

Then there are the days when it’s just the two of them. They talk about words and colours and life and beauty. They explore each other’s mind and learn each other’s heart. They get to know each other in the most intimate of ways. It’s the first time Ellie has given herself over to anyone like that; she doesn’t regret that it’s Aster Flores.

It’s the best summer of Ellie’s life.

But seasons turn, as they must.

They spend their last day together in Aster’s spring, holding hands while floating in the water like a pair of otters. They don’t promise each other anything; they’re both too pragmatic for that.

“El?” Aster breaks their comfortable silence.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve never said it before, but thank you for everything you said at the church that day. I don’t think I would be pursuing my art now if it weren’t for you.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Aster. I think you would have figured it out on your own.”

“Maybe, but thank you all the same.” The smile in her voice is unmistakable.

“Thank you for understanding the chaos that is my brain,” Ellie returns.

“It _is_ pretty chaotic.” A pause, and, “I like it.”

Ellie tightens her grip on Aster’s hand. She is going to miss her so much, but she doesn’t say it. Idly, she notices the leaves of the trees around the spring starting to turn brown.

“Those _are_ deciduous trees!”

The next day, Ellie sees Aster off at the train station. Paul is there with them, as well as Aster’s family.

Aster says goodbye to Ellie last. No one but Paul knows about them -- though Ellie thinks her father might suspect -- so they don’t kiss, but Aster wraps her in a hug so tight she’s convinced it will bruise.

“I will see you later,” Aster whispers in her ear, as though they would only be separated for a brief period of time.

In reality, neither one of them really knows when they would see each other next, or if they would at all. They know they can write or text or call, and maybe they will, but they’re both smart enough to recognise that life is taking them on different paths.

When Aster gets on the train and it starts chugging away, Ellie waves and watches steadily, committing the image of Aster’s wide smile and tear-filled eyes into the repository of her most treasured memories.

Paul stands beside her. “Why didn’t you run after the train?” he asks, ever the romantic.

Ellie hurriedly wipes the tears out of her eyes. “That’s only for morons.”

Paul lets out a grunt and gives her a mock-insulted look.

Ellie smiles slightly. “That’s _our_ thing.”

#### 4

Four years later.

Aster hurries along the sidewalk, carrying a box of art supplies with both hands. Her laptop bag is threatening to slide off her shoulder, so she has to walk with one shoulder shifted higher than the other. She’s headed to the art studio that she’s renting with several other people and she wants to get there before everyone else starts arriving. The work she’s doing now requires some peace and quiet. She would have stayed in her apartment, but she and her boyfriend just had a fight. Again.

She’s so caught up in her thoughts that she fails to sidestep the suit-clad man in her way. She does her best to prevent her laptop bag from falling, inadvertently tilting the box she’s holding and causing her art supplies to spill onto the ground. The man doesn’t even stop to help her -- the asshole.

Aster scrambles to get her things back inside the box. Thankfully, she sees another pair of hands helping her. They make quick work of her scattered art supplies until the last one is back in the box.

She looks up at her good Samaritan and there, on the other side of the box, is a face out of the most treasured times of her teenage years.

“Ellie Chu,” she whispers, hardly daring to believe her eyes. The other woman looks different, with her dark blue button-up and thick-rimmed, square-ish glasses. She’s also wearing her hair down; it frames her face in a gentle wave.

“Hi,” Ellie replies with a shy smile, and Aster is overwhelmed by the familiarity of it.

“What-- how-- what are you doing here?”

“I saw you across the street. I was coming over to say ‘hi’ when that man ran into you.”

“But… what are you doing _here_? In Portland? Last I heard, you were in Chicago.” Living with her girlfriend, though Aster would never admit that she knew that.

“I’m starting my Masters in East Asian Literature at PSU,” Ellie explains. “I arrived just yesterday. I knew you were based here and I thought of contacting you, but I guess I didn’t need to,” she adds, her smile widening.

“Oh… oh, wow,” Aster breathes out.

The two of them have not seen each other since they said goodbye at the train station, after that most glorious summer. They are friends on Facebook but neither of them are active there, though Aster makes sure to greet Ellie on her birthday and vice versa. She is active on Instagram, but she doesn’t know if Ellie has one. She does know that Ellie’s more active on Twitter, but Aster could never get into that particular platform. Her GhostMessenger has been untouched for years; she doesn’t know if Ellie’s still using hers.

“Should we get out of the way?” Ellie says.

It’s only then that Aster realises that they’re still in the middle of a busy sidewalk, getting jostled by other pedestrians, all of whom are unaware that Aster’s world is tilting on its axis once more.

Aster gets a hold of herself and leads them to a nearby cafe. Soon enough, as is characteristic between them, conversation starts flowing easily.

They talk about what they’ve been up to. Aster moved to Portland just after she finished with art school. She now makes art on commission, but she also has several works featured in both temporary and permanent exhibits. Ellie worked as a copy editor at a publishing firm in Chicago. She liked the job but it’s not the career she wanted, so she applied to several Masters programs around the country and got accepted to all of them.

“Why PSU?” Aster asks. She stoutly ignores a hopeful thought bubbling under the surface of her mind: that the fact that she lives in Portland had something to do with Ellie’s choice.

“It’s closest to my dad,” Ellie replies. “He still doesn’t want to leave Squahamish, but I figured that he could visit me more frequently here. I was hoping that if he comes here often enough, he’d end up wanting to live here.”

She doesn’t sound hopeful at all.

“Ah, and here I thought you were missing Squahamish,” Aster says, trying to lighten Ellie’s mood, and to tamp down on her unreasonable disappointment. “When was the last time you even went back home?” she asks. She knows it was two years ago, but she’s not about to admit that.

Ellie lets out a small smile. “You can’t go home again.”

Aster narrows her eyes, questioning. Ellie’s smile widens, and it’s all the answer she needs. “I like Thomas Wolfe too. Wouldn’t go around quoting him though.”

They laugh, and suddenly Aster feels twenty years old again.

They do talk about Squahamish though, or at least the people who still live there: Aster’s family, Ellie’s dad, some of their old classmates, and of course, Paul.

“He has a small stand now called Munsky’s Sausages,” Ellie says, full of mirth and pride.

“No… he’s calling it _that_?”

“Yes,” Ellie replies wryly. “He also keeps sending me sausage emojis. So… you were right,” she declares, and they both burst out laughing.

“So you two still talk all the time?”

“Yeah,” Ellie says simply. “He’s my best friend.”

“That’s really sweet.”

Ellie just shrugs. “He’s dating Becky, by the way. It’s getting pretty serious.”

“Becky… Rebecca _Walker_?” Aster asks disbelievingly. Becky was one of the most popular girls in school, blonde-haired and blue-eyed and wealthy. She used to think that Becky was rather shallow, but she’s come to learn that everyone has their own depth, their own goals and dreams. “And?”

“She’s actually pretty cool,” Ellie says. “I vetted her and everything,” she adds conspiratorially. “Now she helps Paul with the books for his business. Apparently, she’s good with numbers.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Ellie says thoughtfully. “It makes you think, doesn’t it? All those other girls that we used to consider vapid, we don’t even know the half of it. Society puts girls in all these little boxes, and damns us whether we stay in those boxes or jump out of them. The least we can do is to not castigate each other for the choices we make. Well, as long as we’re not hurting other people.”

Then again, Aster has never met anyone else who has a depth quite like Ellie. Her mind is like a forest: a tall tree here and a fern there, a clearing dappled with sunlight, a babbling brook here and a raging river in the next bend.

They talk about their respective partners.

Aster is living with her boyfriend of almost two years. He’s a software engineer and, like a lot of men in that industry, he’s quiet and prefers to stay home instead of going out to party. He also doesn’t like to go out to art exhibits, or to museums, or to anything that would take him away from his computer.

Ellie broke up with her girlfriend a few months ago. As it turns out, her ex-girlfriend started pursuing a Master’s Degree in Mathematics at MIT. The two of them decided that they didn’t want to do a long-distance relationship, and neither one wanted the other to sacrifice her career.

“Did you love her?” Aster can’t help but ask.

“Yes,” Ellie says without hesitation.

_But not enough_ , Aster supplies in her head. _Not enough to stay with her_.

Ellie returns the favour. “Do you love _him_?”

Aster takes a moment to reply, pressing her lips in a thin line. “Yes.” She does her best not to think further than that.

#### 5

It’s five months after she moved to Portland, and Ellie finds herself in a crowded bar with Aster and her art friends. Aster is sitting across from Ellie, but next to Aster is a man who asked to share their table and is now chatting her up.

Aster has been single for almost three months now, and she is well within her rights to flirt with any man or woman she likes.

It’s just that… Ellie has been having these feelings again. Truth be told, she’s always had these feelings; they resurfaced the moment she talked to Aster again, that day at the cafe. She did her best to tamp them down, especially since Aster had a boyfriend, but Aster is single now. She and her boyfriend broke up because they had completely different interests.

Ellie’s interests, on the other hand, are very much aligned with Aster’s. The ones that they didn’t share, they did their best to learn them for the other. Having Aster as one of her closest friends has been amazing. No one has ever understood her to the core of her being, not even Paul. However, she can’t deny that she also wants something more, or maybe something _different_. She wants to be honest and she wants to be bold; she has just been waiting for Aster to be ready to start dating again.

The man leaves eventually, but not without Aster’s number.

Ellie doesn’t know why Aster has to be ready _now_ , on a busy night in a crowded bar, with some random man drooling all over her. She chugs one of the beers that Aster’s friend ordered for the whole table; she doesn’t even like beer.

She wakes up the next morning to a headache and several texts from an unknown number. The unknown contact is talking about being lucky to meet her last night and asking when and where they could meet again. The texts are addressed to Aster.

Scowling, she sends a message to the woman in question: “I think you mistakenly gave that man my number.”

It doesn’t take long for Aster to reply with a string of smiley emojis, at the end of which is one word: “Revenge.”

“What?” Ellie says to no one in particular.

Another message from Aster arrives. “I have bided my time, Ellie Chu, and now justice has finally been served.”

Ellie takes a second to process, but she starts laughing when she does. Aster was never planning to date that man. Ellie has never been so happy to be the receiving end of a prank. Revenge is indeed sweet, even if it is against her.

She has to scream her feelings of elation to her pillow before she can reply. “Where are you right now?”

“At the studio. Wanna come and hang out? It’s just me here. Unless you had other weekend plans?”

“No. I’ll be there in an hour. I just woke up.”

Aster sends her an emoji of a bird and a worm.

Ellie replies with a cat emoji.

“Revenge, really?” Ellie says as soon as she enters the art studio.

Aster is at her spot at one corner of the room, surrounded by paints and canvases. The moment she hears Ellie, she looks up and sends her a triumphant grin.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it, the opportunity was right there.” Becoming concerned, she asks, “You blocked the number, right?”

Ellie rolls her eyes playfully as she goes to stand next to Aster. “Yeah. And I’ll let it slip, but only this time.” She turns solemn. “For what it’s worth, I’m really sorry about what we did-- what _I_ did. I don’t think I’ve ever apologised properly,” she admits. At least not in any mature way, without excuses.

“Ellie,” Aster says, dropping her brush to focus on their conversation. “I was only trying to tease you, I didn’t mean to bring it up. You know I’ve already forgiven you.”

“I know, but I think you forgave me far too easily for such a flimsy apology.”

“Why do you think that is?” Aster says. There is a certain challenge in her eyes as she gazes up at Ellie.

Ellie suddenly can’t breathe, can’t speak, can’t even think. She feels like they’re on the edge of a precipice.

After several moments of silence, Aster turns back to her painting, drawing them back a short way from the edge.

Ellie watches as Aster makes several brush strokes, going from one end of the canvas to the other. “I like that calm pool before the river tumbles down the falls,” she observes. “Like that deceptive quiet in your mind before a hundred thoughts start running through your brain, like water through a sieve, you can barely catch one.”

Aster chuckles, not looking away from her work. “I like the way _your_ brain works.”

Ellie gazes at her friend’s profile. Time seems to slow down. She knows then, with perfect clarity, that _this_ is the moment. She jumps off the cliff.

“I love you.”

Aster seems to freeze, then she puts her brush down again and slowly turns to face Ellie. Her mouth opens wordlessly, but her eyes fix on Ellie’s with such intensity that Ellie finds herself unable to look away.

“Not like a friend,” Ellie clarifies. “Well, as a friend, but also something different. I think that what we have right now is good, no it’s amazing. I love being your friend, and if that’s all we can be, then I’ll consider myself lucky for the rest of my life. But my feelings for you have never gone away.”

Although it is a lie to say that they are the same. Her feelings have evolved; they’re no longer that of an eighteen-year-old pining after her first crush, or of a twenty-year-old in the grips of a short-lived romance. No, what she feels for Aster now, there is an undeniable permanence to it.

She doesn’t say all of that out loud. Instead, she confesses, “I’m in love with you, Aster, and I want to try again. I think we could be great together.”

It takes a relative infinity for Aster’s surprised expression to shift into a smile. “I’m in love with you, too, El.”

Ellie slowly starts to smile. “Yeah?”

Aster’s grin widens. “Oh, you don’t even know the half of it.”

And then she’s grabbing the collar of Ellie’s shirt, drawing her in for a long-awaited kiss. It feels like the start of a great work of art.

#### Bonus

Paul stands up and clears his throat, calling everyone’s attention by clinking the champagne glass with a tiny spoon.

He introduces himself, then begins his best man’s speech. “It all started with one letter….”

Ellie groans, burying her face in her hand. She feels her wife grabbing her other hand. A kiss is pressed to her temple.

“I hope you know you brought this on yourself,” Aster whispers, her tone teasing.

Whether she means writing all those letters or having Paul as a best friend, Ellie doesn’t know. It works either way.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't really plan to write a fic for these two. I think the way _The Half of It_ ended is perfect as it is, but this story won't leave me alone until I write it down, so here we are.


End file.
